Behind the cold mask
by The Uchiha Writer
Summary: "When you're ready, they'll wake you up…maybe you'll end up like me. Or maybe you'll be 'the one'" Sometime in the neo-future a group of scientists is working to create the 'ultimate assassin'. Once their creation is complete, he is released into the world, but he has distant memories of warmth through the cold glass of his chamber. I DON'T OWN NARUTO. NOT YAOI


**AN: **It feels like I haven't posted anything in eons, but it's been even longer since I've written a complete work.  
This one doesn't have an ending either but I wanted to post it to get some feedback before I even try to finish it.  
I've been having some pretty bad writer's block lately..._ (I say that, but it's more like I get lazy and/or bored with the story or it simply stops coming.)_

**This is a first draft, so it's not as smooth as I usually like my stories to be, but I wanted to publish _something_ and just get this out there.**

Anyway, please R&R! Let me know what you think because I might add more to the story...

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Naruto.  
****Rated T for emotional intensity in [possible] later chapters. This is NOT Yaoi**

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The room was dark and devoid of any signs of people, the lights had been shut off for the day and everything was in its proper place.

The glass door opened slowly and a barefoot figure stepped onto the polished tile of the lab, moving silently across the large room to the heavy door on the far side of the wall that separated the lab from the room beyond the thick glass window in the wall.  
With fingers deft with experience, the tall shadow entered in a code into the panel and stood back as he waited for the thick door to slide open, stepping to the side as a cold fog hissed from the newly open room—clearly he had gone through that process many times.

The room beyond was as dark as the lab, the only light coming from a single pod that stood in the center of the room. The light cast a bluish glow on everything around it and as the figure moved closer, his handsome features became somewhat visible in the eerie light.

"It's been a while—" he spoke softly, quietly as he stepped forward "I would have come sooner, but they forbade it. They don't want me to interfere with their work" a soft laugh escaped his lips and he sat down on the chair nearby "They're working on me too. Trying to find a way to stop me" he was gazing at the face beyond the glass, a face that was barely visible because of the fog that seemed to swirl around in the cold chamber  
"But that's not going to happen…" he trailed off, sitting in silence as he listened to the hissing of the machine "I won't let them take all this away" he looked at his hands and then looked back up at the chamber.

"Are you in any pain?" He stood and moved closer as if he was waiting for the figure to respond, concern causing his eyebrows to come together.  
There was nothing and he sighed "When you're ready, they'll wake you up…maybe you'll end up like me. Or maybe you'll be _'the one'_" he stopped again, reaching out to brush the glass fondly before a look of sorrow crossed his face  
"You won't remember me though. You won't remember any of these visits…" he laughed softly "I don't know why I still come when I know that, but I don't want you to die…not like the last one, not like—" he died off and clenched his teeth as he tried to regain control of the burning sorrow. Even after all those years it still caused him pain…the sound of footsteps reached his ears and he looked up at the clock  
"I need to go now, but I'll be back tomorrow" He placed a hand on the cool glass one more time, his eyes on the sleeping face of the one he called a friend "Goodnight…_Sasuke_"

.

.

A black clad figure dropped from the overpass and landed on the rough gravel between the train tracks, a 5 foot rifle balanced on his broad shoulders. His boots made no sound as he stepped forward, heading along the tracks back to the square building that sat on the mountain side.  
He had completed his mission and he was heading back to receive his next assignment.  
In the shadow of the night he remained practically invisible, the only signs of his existence being the faint glowing sheen that the pale moonlight cast on his lacquered mask. There was no face carved on the mask and so he appeared expressionless, the smooth black material casting an image of cold disregard for human lives.

He had been raised as an assassin, bound by his creators to do their bidding. Trained to kill in an instant should the command be given. He was emotionless, blank, above human but less than a god, like an agent that followed the unspoken law of evil and destruction…He was all those things and yet…  
as he walked he glanced up at the moon, aware of the pale light and the warm breeze that blew gently from the high rises of the city, a warmth that reminded him of one he had felt before, a light that had cast a shadow in the depth of his mind, changing the very way he saw things.  
On the outside he was a mindless tool, but on the inside he was a lost soul; searching for a vision that couldn't possible have existed in the world that he had been raised in…_a vision of a fleeting touch and warm words through cold glass…_

"I have completed my task" the figure knelt before the shimmering hologram, his head bowed and his hand on the floor, his weapon laid out before him in the customary manner. The man in the light nodded in satisfaction, his piercing eyes emotionless "Your success has been reported to me. Well done" he spoke coolly, his gaze hardly on the figure in front of him. He cared not for the boy—he was simply seeing to it that each task was completed.  
"Is there anything else I am to do?" it was a preset script and each spoke their parts with confidence "Yes—there is one thing" . . .it was an inevitable answer, for there was always _one thing_

_*It's winter now, and they say it has snowed…though I haven't seen it yet* _Sasuke lay back in bed, his eyes closed and his arms by his side as he breathed slowly. He was to depart at the coming of dusk and cross the city to carry out yet another errand of slaughter.  
He opened his eyes and lifted his hand towards the ceiling, staring at the flesh that was normally concealed behind a dark glove. It appeared the same as any other human being; pale, thin…almost transparent in the dim light and he clenched his fist, he had been created in a laboratory, enhanced and altered to be more than human and to feel nothing, but if that was the truth, why did he have so many questions? Why was there so much uncertainty in his mind every time he received a new order?

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Please R&R If you're interested enough to want more and/or have suggestions for me  
Thank you for taking the time to read it.


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